Whatever it Takes
by Caroline Foreman
Summary: Bells thought she knew her job, she thought being thrown into Neverland would be easy. But when everyone is hiding something different and nothing is as it seems, the Lost Boys aren't playing anymore and it's getting harder and harder to figure out who's telling the truth. Stuck in a land of magic, adventure and maybe just a bit of love, who do you think has the biggest secret?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan or I'd be sponsoring the creation of the first time machine.**

 _Prologue_

'' I must present you with my most sincere apology. I thought our lifestyle would prevent any of this from happening… that we were properly protected.

A tear fell down Elijah's cheek as he spoke.

''Receive the humble regrets of the broken old man who unknowingly caused the destruction of your world as well as the death of your friends. It is a mistake that will haunt the few nights I have left.

''Most of all, I am sorry, for.. '' His voice shock so much he could barely express himself.

''I'm sorry for creating, for raising _her_. I should have known no human could strive so fully in the reality/ies we were forced in/ I forced her in. '' He finally finished.

"You seem to think her a monster." Was all his friend said.


	2. Chapter I

_Chapter 1_

 **Another time, another place; a different girl with the same face. This is where our story should begin, shall we find out who will win?**

''Sire, we have news of last night's retrievers.''

''Excuse me?''

''The group of men who went to victorian England last night to find the new orphan recruit, sire. They never came back home. Well until two hunters found...''

''Are you questioning my knowledge of this event messenger?''

''No sire.''

''I knew who you were talking about.''

''Of course, sire.''

''I'm just messing around, I had no idea what you were talking about. Did any of you?"

The ministers laughed respectfully.

''Alright boys, back to the serious matter now. What happened to the retrievers?''

''They seemed to have ran into some problems, had been ruffed up a little. They said they brought the orphan boy to the island still unconscious but a few minutes on the island and they saw a group of Indians. They attacked our men and fled with the boy. No sign of him since.''

''Alright, for the next week I'd like everyone assigned to retriever or messenger duty to search this island and find the boy. No matter the Indian casualties. We can't have the them or the Fairies stealing our recruits now.''

 **The next day**

The morning was grim, grey reigned on the sky like a heavy cloak, suffocating the land and its light. Clouds surrounded the island, making it impossibly difficult to perceive the shadowed figure of a docked ship, looming just above the water, preparing to leave for England any instant. Although this time, the king of the crew seemed to be missing. His First Mate was fussing around on the docks, unable to discern their mighty captain and feared tyrant among the swirling sea of men and women shouting from across the Jolly. The atmosphere was heavy on the vessel, without their fierce leader to guide them, the vicious pirates were getting restless and the apprehended voyage only made things worse. Indeed, their quest on the island was far from over, no immediate danger burdened the lives of these men and rations were more than sufficient. Which left the crew with one heavy question; why on earth was the ship leaving so early to venture in the world where time never seemed to stop? Two people knew the answer to that. For you see, the captain wasn't the only one missing from his usual resting place; a certain ageless boy was too.

 **5 days ago in the real world**

She was running through the city with an apple in her hand and the wind whipping onto her cheeks, sending her hair flying behind her at every drop and turn. Avoiding obstacles swiftly, she ducked around the merchants' stands as an attempt to confuse the angry vendor who was chasing after her. She was about to knock down an empty stand which was sure to block passage for her pursuer, thus getting away with the apple once again. This was her chance, although she had to act fast. But Bells caught sight of a little girl, around the age of 8 with hair the colour of the sun, much like her own, being dragged away by a taller, middle-aged man, nearby. No one seemed to be paying attention to them despite the girl's loud protests, but this was Victorian England after all and children didn't count for much here. The little blond was dressed in ripped rags, most likely an orphan living on the streets of a revolutionized country. She looked back at the angry merchant now only meters away from catching her, then turned to the empty stand, her escape gate, and sighed in moral defeat.

''I'm going to regret this.'' She said before pushing the heavy stand on the younger orphan's aggressor, in that losing any chance of easy freedom. The stand didn't manage to knock the man down but he released his grip on the girl just long enough for her to get away and mix with the crowded marketplace. She glanced back at the tall man shooting glares at the audacious heroine when her arm was painfully twisted behind her back.

''I've got you now you little waif!''

Yeah, she was definitely regretting this.

The man pulled her by the arm and brought her back to his fresh fruit and vegetables stand, where he sat her down on a stool and tied her up tightly. Gears were turning in her head as she assessed her unpractical situation. The heavy man made a loud gruff-like sound at the scene of his handiwork. The merchant had an impressive mustache, an imposing set of shoulders and a permanent frown. If the ties hadn't been biting in the flesh of her wrists she'd have laughed. He then went to find a police officer whom she was sure she wouldn't be pleased to make acquaintance with. The girl briefly nudged her bonds, the tight knots revealing a long life as a sailor. Her captor was still keeping an eye on her as he was approaching a nearby officer. Not that Bells would care. She quickly started to look for a sharp object she could use to cut the ropes around her legs, cruelly tied to the chair. There was a knife on a small table under the stand, but if she tried reaching for it, odds were the merchant or the police officer he was now talking with, would see her. She had to think fast or she'd be in big trouble with the police department, once again. Not to mention Elijah would _kill_ her if she was late today as well. She willed herself to raise her legs as much as she could so to lift the chair from the ground with her, and prepared herself for the drop. The force of the impact should break the chair into pieces and free her of the tangled ropes. Though the sound would get attention, she'd be long gone before the men could get to the broken and empty chair. As she had predicted, the escape went swiftly. What she hadn't taken into consideration was how much the impact hurt her bullocks. She had to work on her quick thinking skills, she told herself inwardly as she was quickly made her way out of the marketplace, the fresh apple still in hand as well as four other ones. Not to mention the bright satisfactory smile gracing her lips and she bit into the blood red fruit and continued on her race.

 **A week later in Neverland**

Pan was in an especially bad mood today and had been for the last week. Nothing had gone as planned recently, not the meeting with Hook a week ago- the arrogant bastard knew how to bruise his ego-, not his speech to the lost boys today- though they acted more like rebelling peasants these days- and certainly not his search for Shadow- the latter had been impossible to locate for months now. Hell, he couldn't even play his pipes right this morning- he had no explanation for that except the universe's stubborn desire to make his recent life completely unbearable. So, resenting the whole of his day, week and year, he set upon walking bitterly in the vast and humid forest of Neverland with his most thrusted advisor, Felix. He would never admit it, but the large and constant tree line calmed the young boy down, and trotting in the forest had always made him feel as safe as the child he'd been when he first set foot on the island. He wasn't as young anymore. Though still not aging as quickly as a traditional mortal, and far from any drastic change, Pan had begun to notice minor deflects in his immortality. Fortunately, none of the Lost boys had noticed the slight growth of his limbs, or his jaw shaping into something more angulated. Well, maybe Felix had, but the kid knew how to respect the solemn limit of their friendship and keep quiet; just like he was right now. But the pipe player knew it was almost a matter of time. _Ha! A matter of time_ , the boy repeated to himself, _that's just rich. The boy who never ages is worried about TIME, of all things._ Nevertheless, he had chosen not to tell the Lost boys of this matter for now but had wished to explain the new terms of his relationship with the vicious Captain Hook. Needless to say, they hadn't taken this new agreement very well. Chaos had broken up quickly between the boys as they fought over whether or not they should question the King. Violence rapidly followed and when their leader tried to intervene, he too was practically assaulted before he had a chance to remind them of their place. Once dismissed, they scattered around camp whispering their disagreement and loathing under their breaths.

He stepped on a twig and the breaking sound brought him back from his sulking thoughts. Until he realized, it hadn't been him who stepped on a twig but someone else.

''You hear that?'' He asked Felix. However his friend has sought out a few longer pieces of grass and was now treading them like the true sailor he once had been. Too concentrated in his work, he dismissively replied,

''Nope.'' and continued on farther into the forest, never raising his eyes above his intricate knot. Ignoring Felix's antics, Pan rolled his eyes and let the boy go, before he slowly turned on his heels to inspect his surroundings and carefully listened for any sound of breathing. He approached one of the trees he had passed, ready for anything. His steps were slow but sturdy, and as he finally turned the corner of the bark he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and pinned to the bark. A knife was thrust against his throat and a firm arm crushed him further into the tree's rough skin.

''Who are you?'' He and his attacker said simultaneously.

''You're the missing boy aren't you?''

''Doesn't matter. Where are we? What is this place, an island?'' Said the latter, trying his best to convey certainty.

Still holding onto his knife, the other gulped at Pan's intense gaze.

''Tell me!'' The boy rambled.

''I assure you I am not one the Indians you met with earlier. Attempting to force me into anything is a _big_ mistake.'' His voice catching a new and sharper edge.

''Then who are you!'' Forgetting he was supposed to have the upper hand, his voice was laced in panic and fear. Therefore, as he found himself in an arguably worrying position, his mind and attention still quickly wondered off.

Peter Pan was absolutely frizzled. That someone would easily attack him this way, on his own island, and then have the audacity to take him for a fool. It seemed like a preposterous idea to him. Then again, he hadn't really been himself recently, always distracted by the creation of his most elaborate scheme yet. Speaking of distracted, his friend was either too far to have heard all the excitement or too concentrated to care. The young man's eyes changed as annoyance became anger and boiled in his entire body. Some might say Pan had somewhat of a temper, but really it was just that the world had a knack for annoying him in every possible way. He turned his focus on his assailant, still holding him tight. The boy who got away… No, the boy who was saved by a group of Indians. He didn't seem particularly buff, he was frighteningly slim for that matter, or different from the other boys he'd brought in over time. And his facial features… He almost laughed out loud as realization dawned on him. A girl. Was that why he'd been saved from his men? But why would a girl be any different or special. What did it matter, to them that is?

He had never overestimated the Lost Boys who were under his rule but to confuse her for a boy, what with her unimpressive clothed disguise and weak stature. A weak-statured girl was pinning him to a tree and threatening him with a knife. This girl had managed to pin him to a tree and keep a knife to his throat! _What a day_ , he thought, what a day.

She pressed the sharp object further and drew blood, before repeating her question more threateningly.

''Oh I'm sorry, do you not know who I am?'' he answered, more out of habit than anything else.

''Humour me.'' She said deadpanned, more out of habit than anything else.

He chuckled and smiled a wicked smile he was sure he could appreciate.

The atmosphere between them tensed and stability seemed to grow thinner by the second as the beautiful stranger's face broke into a devilish grin. She wouldn't let herself see, that everything about him seemed to have been made for little girls' fantasies. His green eyes catching the same mischievous glint she often flashed at Elijah; his golden hair shining too brightly for the absence of direct sunlight; and his thin rosy lips you could just imagine curving up at the end from how natural it seemed. She would not let herself admire how innocent and precious the author had made him look, because she knew, thanks to her mentor's briefing a few hours ago, that this boy was capable of unbestowed cruelty: ''If not apprehended, Pan's greed and hunger for power will only grow, so much I fear that, even in our world, we could not stop him.''

''I'm Peter. Peter Pan.'' He said, ''You might have heard of me as the great Pan, flyer extraordinaire, the incredibly handsome immortal boy, king of the Lost Boys…''

She'd never thought this would the Peter Pan she would meet. Children's tales were too real and yet not real enough sometimes, Bells thought.

''Right,'' she cut in,'' got it.''

Oh well, it was time for her stance and credibility to slowly crumble to the ground so she could give this deformation of her hero what he wanted: a frightened prey.

''If you're an Indian, like you say, how did you not recognize who I am?''

He inspected her more thoroughly this time. No, she didn't come from around here. She wore a large white chemise, black slacks and a light middle-sleeved coat which fit oddly on her small shoulders and actually reached her palms. The whole was covered in street dust and old rips, very different from what you'd expect of someone who lives in the forest. A glimmer caught his eye as the sun shifted to a delicately forged watch, held by a black bracelet, attached to the exposed wrist of her favoured hand. It seemed to be the only article in her belongings to be completely clean and polished, revealing a thin silver rim surrounding a set of elegantly engraved roman numbers.

She watched him watch her. This was too easy, with a little luck she'd have him in the palm of her hand in two days, and be gone in a week, cut her trip halfway, and have fun doing it. The boy took a step forward, looking down at her with loathing and self-assurance, dismissing the knife which he simply tilted to the side when her hold had to loosened. The ratchet kid was intimidating, patronizing, threatening, menacing, lots of other synonyms, and utterly disgusting to her. _The audacity of him!_ Nothing set her off more than the idea that one could believe themselves superior and attempt to use status, strength or pull in order to gain power and satisfy their own needs first. Yeah, Lijah had rubbed off on her a _little_. In 7 days time she would leave this island behind, and Peter Pan would only be remembered as the cruel and worthless bully he was, never again to play another game. But first, she'd have to sway along and trow a few pitches herself.

She tried to push him away. He barely stumbled.

''You clearly aren't part of the Indian tribe.''

''But I…''

''You're also not a boy.''

''What?No..''

 _Damn, was she getting too old to pull off the scrunchy boy look?_

''Rule number one here on Neverland, nothing gets passed me, little one. Why?'' He leaned in to whisper in Bells ear, ''Because The Mighty One sees everything. And here, darling mine, I play God as much as I want to.'' He said, stretching out the end, she gulped sinking into herself.

Her eyes fixed to the right side of Peter's head, she stated- _mumbled really:_

''I was in London, and I…Well, umm…Does this mean that we..we're in Neverland?'' She struggled to get the words out with him so close. Her body betrayed fear, the truth behind the helpless orphan's tough facade. His laugh rumbled through his chest as he withdrew from her.

''You'd think I'd get bored of it. But the panicked looks, quivering hands and whimpered speech is just so satisfying! Yes, we are in Neverland my dearest. You, however, are somewhat of a novelty here. Utterly unheard of and completely fascinating.''

''You're not like the in the bedtime stories.'' She whispered, her voice sounding so small.

''How so?'' He leaned in.

''Crueler, a lot crueler.'' Another laugh echoed out into the forest as he savoured her words.

And Bells thought she was a better actress than she gave herself credit for.


	3. Chapter II

_Chapter 2_

 **Author's note:**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan**

 **A week minus 5 minutes ago in the real world**

'Not to mention Elijah would _kill_ her if she was late today as well.' l.54 of Chap1

''I said I was sorry!'' Said the young girl.

''This is _not_ the first time this has happened Bells, tardiness is not a habit you should fall into,'' Elijah responded, looking pointedly at his protege. Exasperated beyond words, she flopped down on the distressed couch and carefully inspected the blood-red fruit in her right were both in a small apartment, hidden in between two buildings, long forgotten by the English aristocrats of England's commercialized capital.

Certainly, one would think, despite how baffling London has proven to be, an entire apartment could hardly find itself 'hidden'?

Well, a few decades ago, an impressive two-story structure was erected, at the junction of Fleet Street and The Strand, meant to separate the town borders from the area of Westminster. Said structure went by the name The Temple Bar Gate. However, as the 19th century began, and the use of vehicles spread quicker than any erudite could have predicted, the gate would be referred to as 'that leaden-headed old obstruction, appropriate ornament for the threshold of a leaden-headed old corporation', and so shops, such as Andrew Millar's bookstore, closed one by one. Indeed, reputation is critical in Victorian England. By this time, only carriages would ever pass under The Temple Bar Gate, raising improper amounts of dust in their wake. This was a good thing, for without everyone bustling around in the old street, Elijah Gibbs, the current alias our father figure used at the moment, was able to purchase the famous bookstore as well as its next-door neighbour without facing the accusations of a chancer. Having successfully claimed the two properties in his name, the wise middle-aged man proceeded to built and renovate an entirely different apartment right in-between both landmarks, making sure the walls seemed firm and empty from the outside. Consequently, him and this reckless brat he'd grown rather fond of, were living somewhere absolutely no one knew of, somewhere even the darkest shadows of society couldn't get to them.

Elijah let out a long sigh as he watched his girl proudly bitting into her prize. His patience for her was sure to be his downfall some day.

''How was your day?''

''Excellent, how was yours?''

''I had a new order coming in..'' He began apprehensively.

''Really!'' Her head shot up, finally showing interest. ''Where are we going this time?''

''Patience, Bells.'' He chastised '' Patience and restraint are virtues only others will appreciate enough.'' Declared the old sage.

''That means absolutely nothing and even you must bloody well know that.''

''Language!''

 **A week and a day later in Neverland**

Bells woke up to the sound of muffled laughs and giddy squeaks. A sound so foreign to her she had to remind herself that yesterday, Peter had brought her to his camp, full of promise and charming words.

'' _Don't worry we're not as bad as we look. I'll even make sure you make it back to your world in no time._

" _This is Felix by the way, he used to be a pirate.''_

 _Felix barely glanced in her direction, though long enough to stare daggers at the girl._

'' _I can't stay here?'' Asked Bells_

'' _No. Neverland is no place for a girl. You'll be much better off back to where you came from.''_

'' _But I don't want to go back there. I was trying to escape my life, that's why I cut my wri…"_

'' _Felix, show her to a tent, will you. I have to speak to the Lost Boys, have them listen.''_

 _Felix scoffed._

'' _Lad, I pity your unlucky self there mate. What happened this morning is what I call a Man-O-War ready to scuttle your sorry son of a biscuit eater arse. Good luck announcing an orphan girl got into Neverland right under your nose too.''_

'' _I didn't actually ask to be brought here, by the…''_

'' _No, Felix. Good luck to you.'' Peter said._

'' _You have got to be pulling my bloody leg there, Pan.''_

 _Said boy turned to Bells, ignoring his friend._

'' _All you need to know for now is how to get settled into camp. As a girl, you can't belong in Neverland. But seeing as though this is a place for kids who don't have anywhere else to go, we should be able to make a place for you, temporarily. Unfortunately, while getting kids in Neverland is easy, the other way around is a bit more complicated.''_

 _Felix glanced to Pan with a frown._

'' _All I ask in return is a small favour.'' Cut in Peter._

'' _And what exactly would that be?'' Said Bells lamely._

' _'Haven't figured it out yet.'' He laughed, his gaze focusing back on the muddy road they were currently following._

'' _It's Catherin, my name.''_

Bells buried her face in the soft pillows of the bed she had slept in. A weak attempt to muffle the children's ruckus coming from her left wall, her right wall, the ceiling, the floor and the bloody water closet. Indeed, her task took place years after the events of Bart's original novel, and it seemed time had brought on some changes. Notably the welcome of a few new members to the family, kids they had found wandering around in a diversity of eras and countries. Elijah had found out about the intricacies that followed their 'recruitment' process from their client in order to use it to get her into camp. Staying here was all on her, however, which would prove harder than she'd imagined now that they knew she wasn't one of the boys.

Putting aside Bells' harsh wake, the small wooden bed built within a small rustic house was surprisingly comfortable. From the outside, it appeared to be a dismal, hastily put together hut in the midst of other huts. However, the inside was a completely different setting. By some magic, the interior looked charming, inviting and warm, containing various 'modern' instalments such as electricity and in-door plumbing. This place's evolution since the storybook was as intriguing as it was curiously practical. To her left, the walls held the colour and texture of oak tree bark, shades and dips dancing around on the rough surface. The room was clean, if not empty. There was a wardrobe, a nightstand, and the bed, all built entirely out of wood. As Bells began a mental list of today's objectives, she suddenly noticed five Lost Boys, all flushed against the spare room's door, whispering and stealing glances at the new arrival. _Apparent rule number two in Neverland: Foreigners aren't allowed privacy_. If she was to succeed in her mission though, she had to make friends with the barmpot parade.

''Hi, '' Said the new girl with a shy smile and genuine kindness.

Every single one of them sprang into motion, ran away as fast as they could, only nearly missing the guest room door.

"That went so well."

 **The night before**

''How are we even discussing this? There was a mistake, she's actually a girl, now send her back! We both know what happened last time girls were in Neverland.''

''Considering I was there and you weren't, I'm dismissing that argument. And furthermore, it was the Shadow who made a mistake in saving her. Now have you ever heard of the Shadow making a mistake? I told you to make her a part of the camp because I want to conduct a little experiment.''

''But..''

''Make her a part of the camp Felix!''

 **Back to that same morning in Neverland**

As she exited her room, a figure still stood against the hallway wall, hands in his pockets.

''Enjoyed your new alarm clock did you?'' She heard a voice say, laced in a southwestern England accent. The accent of a pirate.

''I thought pirates were funny.''

''I don't like you either, but I was put in charge of 'the novelty', so please try to keep the street attitude to yourself."

Bells decided she did not appreciate him very much.

"Now, you were suppose to fill in as a gatherer here. However, because two of our retrievers were injured in the Indian attack -by your fault- you will be learning how to tend them in the healing guard, where you are confined to a small closed-in room where I can keep an eye on you.''

''Okay, but I'm curious. What does a gatherer do?''

''That's not..''

''..I mean I gathered the whole gathering part, but what is it that they gather? Also, where do these gatherers gather before leaving for the gathering?''

''…

''Please, do not utter a word to me ever again.''

Bells wore a mischievous smile as she stared at Felix's retreating form. The idea of another 'Elijah' that she could mess with when the mission became too easy was, for Bells, as much a relief as it was an excuse for overdue scheming. She hurried to catch up to him with a skip in her step.

The healing guard was set up at the east side of camp, opposing the Lost Boys' huts where she'd slept. Two steady logs of wood kept the door-skin open during the day, although it seemed relatively empty. They walked in to a rounded space where two rectangular tables made out of smaller logs and rope. Shelves held all kinds of medical supplies

"Where are all the Lost Boys?"

"Working."

"Excuse me?"

"You are excused."

"And you're hilarious. I thought the boys spent all their time playing around and getting in trouble. A few bruises is part of the fun. Isn't that the point of having no parents around?"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm brilliant."

"You're arrogant and suspicious."

"You're slow, we've been talking for a few minutes now. Why is Peter being such a pain in the arse to everyone?"

"He's got it in his head to be king of a civilized people. I'm slow?"

"That's ridiculous, he's a kid."

"We're all kids."

Felix's eyes were brown, speaks of gold ordained the colour here and there, but his gaze was mostly a warm and tender shade of brown. This the pirates had seen right away when they'd picked him up form a piece of the flooring carcass that had once been his father's ship. A sweet, preserved shade of brown they had seen, and never forgiven for. He'd been so young, so young he would be like family to the captain. So young he had gone from favoured son, too young to be sailor or businessman or noble, to favoured pirate. She noticed his eyes, so very brown indeed. Hadn't paid attention to it before, but now she could see them very well as they shared paused silence. A boy came in the medicine tent then, Felix took a step back he hadn't realized he'd taken forward.

"What is that?" Asked the newcomer.

"Your worst nightmare." Humoured Bells, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"A girl, Eric. We've discussed' em before. The miss will be helping you around, show her what you know, Pan's orders."

"Okay."

Bells spent the day uselessly. If she wasn't indulging Eric's chatty curiosity, she was being pushed around by Felix, nowhere near anything of value to her task. Exasperated, she went to bed determined to change her strategy in the morning. She knew Peter was already searching for her target, she somehow had to get closer to the child king.


End file.
